


Written in progress

by Amerna



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy/Steve Month Promptathon, F/M, Fluff, darcystevemonth, post The Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4931989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amerna/pseuds/Amerna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Steve/Darcy promptathon: <i>Darcy is a writer SHIELD (or whoever) hires to write/ghostwrite/co-write Steve's biography. Queue countless hours spent together.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Written in progress

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely un-beta'd! If anybody wants to give me some pointers, please, please, do!

### Written in progress

Steve glared at the woman sitting opposite of him, but she just turned the page of the book she was reading, entirely unperturbed. At times she would take a sip out of her coffee cup, but other than that she wasn’t acknowledging his presence at all. It was really irritating. This was their fourth meeting and they had yet to exchange words other than pleasantries.

He had told Nick Fury that this was an idiotic idea, but the Director of SHIELD had not budged. Instead he had explained that the demand for knowledge about Captain America was at an all-time high after SHIELD had publicly released that the man in the uniform who had helped defeating the Chitauri during the Battle of New York was the real life Steven Rogers who had survived his plunge into the Arctic. So the SHIELD PR department had decided that Steve Rogers would publish his autobiography in record time and hired him a ghost writer to help the writing along.

So here they were, the fourth Thursday afternoon in a row that they spent together in a SHIELD meeting room in New York. Today he was glaring at her and acting petulant and she was reading a novel and ignoring him entirely. He had considered not showing up at all, but then his sense of obligation forbade him to skip an appointment and this was probably the best way to let everybody know that he would sabotage the writing of his own biography every step of the way.

He was kind of surprised that his ghost writer, one Darcy Lewis, took it all in a stride. This time she had even come prepared, prepared for his antics, that is. Because she definitely hadn’t started out with ignoring him.

During their first meeting she had been excited and enthusiastic and compassionate and really knowledgeable about his background and Steve had almost felt guilty about crushing her spirit. Almost. She had gotten her recording device and notes out and started questioning him, but Steve had had none of it so he either hadn’t answered at all or answered in monosyllables. She had tried again during their second meeting, but he had been even more acerbic, adding very visible grimaces and challenging looks to his repertoire whenever she asked questions about his time before he became Captain America. It was clear that she had become very frustrated by the end of it and had had to restrain herself to not start yelling.

During their third meeting they’d had a standoff, glaring at each other from across the table for a good thirty minutes not saying anything and challenging the other to look away first. (It had ended in a draw when a SHIELD agent had interrupted and Steve had had to suit up for a mission).

And now their fourth meeting. She was irritatingly nonchalant about the whole situation. She had gotten into the room, greeted him, made herself a cup of coffee (no sugar, lots of milk), gotten one of the pastries that were provided as well, settled in on one of the conference chairs, gotten her phone and her book out and started reading. She’d done that for the last 90 minutes and Steve, who had not been prepared for that situation (he had been prepared for and kind of looked forward to another silent standoff and/or yelling), felt like an absolute idiot. It bothered the hell out of him.

Actually, he'd realised after half an hour, it was the book that irked him the most, the noticeable sound it had made whenever she turned a page. Everything was digital in SHIELD’s world. All the data he’d received about what had happened in the almost 70 years he’d been away had been given to him in any kind of digital format (ebook, mp3s, videos, etc.). Some people were practically surgically attached to their tablets. So her reading a book the old-fashioned way, on actual paper instead of on an e-reader, bothered him somehow. That and the fact that she had positioned herself in a way that he couldn’t see what she was reading, but judging by her facial expressions she was delighted by the book’s contents.

He had almost decided that he wanted to ask her what she was reading, when the alarm on her phone started blaring and she shut it off, closed her book and put it away (without giving Steve the opportunity to glance at the title) and then stood up from the chair. Steve followed every single one of her motions with his eyes.

“You know, Captain,” she said airily, looking at him for the first time in two hours, “if we are going to continue saying nothing to each other, we can do it in more comfortable circumstances. Next Thursday I’m not going to be here. I’ll be at the Beantown, the coffee shop on 48th Street. You can decide if you want to come or not.”

~*~

In the end it was curiosity that made him go there. He had obsessed over going or not far too much the past seven days and he had decided to go meet her last minute, too, which was why he was now 15 minutes late and he was wondering if she had stayed to wait for him or not.

He entered the coffee shop and looked around and noticed her almost immediately. She was sitting on one of the tables in the corner, alone, with a cup of tea next to her and a book open in front of her. She was completely absorbed in her book.

She looked different, too. During their past meetings she had worn comfortable but professional clothing, now she wearing a washed-out college hoodie from Culver and a brightly-coloured scarf with unicorns riding a bicycle on it. Her hair was fixed in a messy ponytail with several strands coming loose. Steve suddenly felt ridiculous in his own clothes. Modern fashion was something he hadn’t adapted to yet but then he’d felt maybe he didn’t need to judging by some of the fashion the younger men were wearing these days. That was until last Saturday when Natasha had taken him aside and explained hipsterdom to him.

He made his way to her table and shuffled with his feet uncomfortably but Darcy didn’t look up. Then he cleared his throat awkwardly but she still didn’t react.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he finally said, “is this seat taken?”

She looked up at him and her eyes widened in evident surprise. So she hadn’t expected him to actually show up. He put that down as a victory in his book.

“No,” she then said softly, “it’s not.”

He sat down awkwardly and Darcy observed him, while taking a sip of her tea.

“You should get a cup of coffee,” she then suggested quietly before she went back to her book.

He let her read in silence and took in his surroundings, before he focused back on her and her book. She was reading a different book than last week, he noticed. This time the cover looked somehow familiar.

“What are you reading?” the question had left his mouth before he could stop himself.

Darcy looked up at him in surprise. “I’m re-reading Harry Potter,” she then explained and briefly held up the book so he could read the title. It was the first book, Steve noticed.

“Oh, I liked those!”

“You read them?” Darcy regarded him curiously.

“Yeah, there were one of the first books I read after I woke up. Pepper insisted. Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. I’d read the Hobbit already back in the day.”

“Have you seen the movies, too?”

“Only the Lord of the Rings, I didn’t really feel like marathoning eight movies straight after we had finished Star Wars.”

Darcy grinned at him. “So I take that Tony Stark has started your pop culture education?”

“Not only Tony, but Bruce and Clint and Nat, too.”

“Good.” Darcy nodded approvingly.

They sat opposite to each other in awkward silence for a moment.

“Tony’d called Hawkeye… Clint ‘Legolas’ during the battle,” Steve volunteered some additional information, “and afterwards I asked them to explain the reference and it kind of continued from there.”

“Ah! Do you live with them in the tower?” she then asked.

“Yup,” Steve nodded. “It’s convenient. But then SHIELD is thinking of transferring me to the DC headquarters.”

“I think you’d like DC, it’s nice.”

“You’re familiar with it?”

“I studied at Culver,” Darcy explained, pointing at her hoodie. “It’s in Virginia. DC’s not far. I went there a lot. I was a political science major.”

Steve hummed in understanding and they were quiet again.

“At this point,” Darcy then said softly, “people usually ask what made me go into political science and then how I became a ghost writer.”

Steve squinted at her. “So we are going back to business then?” he then said forcefully. “Was this the pleasant small talk you needed to cover? Now you are trying to get me open up about my past again? Is the change of scenery just an elaborate play from your side?”

Darcy looked at him with raised eyebrows, she then closed her book and put it away and looked him square in the eyes. “No, it’s not. I like this place. I go here frequently. It’s nice and comfortable and secure. And I asked you here because I figured you don’t get out much. Do you?”

Steve wriggled about nervously on his chair for a moment. “No, I do not,” he then agreed.

“By your own design or by SHIELD’s orders?” Darcy asked pointedly.

“Bit of both,” Steve confessed.

“Thought as much,” Darcy commented. “So, no, this is not an elaborate play to get you to open up. If you want to talk, talk. I can do small talk or hear about your past or anything that comes to mind, really. But if you don’t want to talk, I suggest that you get a cup of coffee and occupy yourself and I’ll get back to my book.”

Steve regarded her curiously for a moment. “I’ll get a cup of coffee,” he then said, getting up.

“Good,” Darcy just nodded and got her book out again. “Harry is just trying to find platform 9 ¾.”

When Steve returned back to the table Darcy was engrossed in her book again and made no effort to pick up any conversation. He sat down, took a sip from his coffee, got out his sketchbook and started drawing.

He became so absorbed in his drawing (he was drawing the old-fashioned fireplace at the other end of the coffee shop) that he was surprised when Darcy closed her book with a thud, making him look up. He looked at her questioningly.

“I’m all done,” she explained with a smile. “Voldemort defeated – for now. So I’m heading out.”

“Okay, I’ll stay for a bit and finish my drawing.”

“I didn’t know you drew,” Darcy said.

“Yeah,” Steve said casually. “Not many people know – or expect it.”

“Doesn’t go well with the warrior of legend story people have conjured the past 70 years,” Darcy commented, “which is probably why it was never disclosed. Mythological warrior and artist doesn’t go well together these days.”

Steve frowned at her.

“Anyway,” Darcy continued. “I’ll be here the same time next week, reading the Chamber of Secrets.”

~*~

“I mean,” Darcy said four weeks later, “I really get your reluctance to not take part in this. What SHIELD wants is basically a propaganda piece.”

“Do you think SHIELD will redact or change a lot of your writing?” Steve asked.

“Honestly? Yes. I mean, you didn’t even get a saying in your own autobiography and this is my first gig. The end product will never turn out in a way we both want it.”

“So why do _you_ do this?” Steve asked curiously.

“The money’s good,” Darcy said in brutal honesty. “And I had the clearance already. I’m friends with Thor.”

“Oh,” Steve drew out the sound, when recognition dawned. “You are _that_ Darcy.”

“Is he still telling the taser story?” Darcy asked amusedly.

“Yes, he is. It sounds very heroic when he… narrates it.”

“I bet it does,” she grinned, her eyes lit up in delight. “I hope it does. I’m actually still proud of myself that I felled the god of freakin’ thunder with artificial lightning.”

“And fertility,” Steve added.

“What?” Darcy stared at him.

“He’s the god of thunder and fertility,” Steve explained. “And some other stuff, too. Oaks, I think. Healing, maybe?”

Darcy squinted at him. “That is such random knowledge to have. How do you know that?”

“I googled,” Steve answered drily.

“You googled?” Darcy echoed, surprised.

“Yes, I do know how the internet works. That was one of the first things SHIELD taught me.”

“Did they also tell you that the internet is basically made up of porn and kittens?”

Steve blushed at that. “That I found out all by myself,” he then mumbled.

“Why, Captain Rogers!” Darcy pretended to be scandalised and fanning herself. “I would never! Tell me more!”

“I’d rather not.”

“Oh, but please,” Darcy teased, “I need to know if you’ve found the Captain America porn parody yet.”

“What?” Steve stared at her.

“Okay, judging by your reaction you clearly haven’t. That kind of abruptly ends the teasing opportunities.”

“Do I want to know more about this?” Steve asked suspiciously.

“Well,” Darcy said airily. “Keep it in mind and google it at home, my young Padawan. It’s a treat.”

“Yeah, right,” Steve said, deadpan. “Anyway,” he continued their original topic of conversation a few seconds later, “did you consider turning down the job?”

“Yeah, sure, for a long time. I mean, I really don’t want to end up like Ewan McGregor.”

“Like who?” Steve asked.

“He’s an actor, he starred in a movie called the Ghost Writer. It’s based on a book, too, by Robert Harris. It’s about a political conspiracy that a ghost writer starts to unravel.”

“Something to keep in mind and google?” Steve asked.

Darcy shrugged. “Only if you want to. You know what, you should get a little notebook or something to write stuff down that people tell you to look up,” she then suggested. “That would be delightfully old-fashioned of you. Then you can google it at home.”

“So, you said this is your first gig. How did you get it?”

“I got myself through college being a ghost writer for other people. I still do it. I know,” Darcy defended herself immediately, “not the most honourable profession, but it pays well. That and I kind of wrote my undergrad thesis about you. Well, not you directly, but the public projection of Captain America during the Cold War era. SHIELD knows all this, obviously, and I had the Thor connection, so here I am.”

“Oh,” Steve had never considered that people would investigate every aspect of his life academically. “Was your thesis any good?” he then asked.

“Yeah, I even got it published in the Journal of Political Communication. It comes up when you google my name. I’m Darcy J. Lewis, academically.”

“Wow,” Steve said, impressed. “So how did you end up being an intern for Dr Foster?”

“I needed six science credits to graduate.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I felt that it was better working with Jane than to barely pass Biology 101 or something so I applied for the job… And I was the only applicant so she had no choice but to take me on.”

“And now you are here.”

“And now I am here.”

~*~

“And then she shot you?” Darcy stopped abruptly and stared at him, incredulously. This was their tenth or 11th meeting. Steve had lost track. They had forgone their usual coffee date today and were now ambling through Central Park to enjoy the fall foliage. “Agent Carter shot you?”

“Yup, right at the shield.”

“No wonder, dude, you deserved it.”

“Oh yeah, trust me, I _know_.”

“Fondueing,” Darcy said more to herself, shaking her head. “Geez. I don’t know if you are an innocent special snowflake or if your mind is extremely far in the gutter because Howard Stark of all people meant food and you thought of sex immediately.”

“Ah, but Darcy, a gentleman never tells,” he teased.

“Mind in the gutter it is,” Darcy shot back. “But seriously,” she added softly, “your Peggy sounds amazing.”

“She was, she _is_ ,” Steve corrected herself.

“She’s still alive?”

“Yes, she lives in an assisted living facility in DC. She… she-” Steve hesitated and swallowed hard. “She only recognises me on her good days. It’s Alzheimer’s.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve gave her a watery smile, “I had to explain to her how I returned four times already.”

“Shit, Steve,” Darcy stared at him. “Do you want a hug?”

He looked at her for a second. “Yeah, a hug would be nice,” he then answered.

Immediately Darcy stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him, he pulled her tight but not too tight, mindful of his own strength and he didn’t want to squeeze her too hard. Her head rested on his torso and his arms settled on her back. Steve felt himself relax in her embrace. He could smell something sweet – her shampoo, probably – and feel her heartbeat.

“I would appreciate it if you don’t put any of this in the book,” Steve said quietly after a few minutes. “Nothing about Peggy.”

Darcy looked up at him and he had never found her so beautiful. A blush had crept into her cheeks and her mouth looked round and soft and very inviting. She stared at him for a moment with her beautiful, sparkling blue eyes. “Oh yeah,” she then said, shaking her head slightly and breaking the moment, “sure, nothing about Peggy, no problem.”

~*~

“So, if you could write the Captain America book you wanted, what would you write?” Steve asked, trotting behind Darcy, who was browsing the bookshelves at the Strand to find more books that she judged necessary for him to read. By now Steve was carrying quite a pile.

“A children’s book,” Darcy said immediately.

“A children’s book?” Steve echoed.

“Yeah, I would make Captain America kid sized and have him go on kiddy-sized adventures, where he learns important lessons about life. Like being true to yourself and standing up to bullies and helping others. Admit your mistakes and become a better person. How to go on vacation. It would be educational and awesome. Rescuing your teddy bear from the annoying neighbour child in one issue and fighting dragons and dinosaurs in the next.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“Thanks,” Darcy grinned back at him. “And obviously sometimes the kiddy Captain would have this amazing crew that would come along on his adventures, to, you know, rescue the Bucky bear. The dragons he can fight alone.”

“Thanks,” Steve commented drily and then followed her into the next aisle. He followed her in silence for a few minutes. “You know, if you want to make it happen: You definitely have my permission to use my image. And I’m pretty sure the other Avengers would be delighted by it, too. And Pepper would make sure that it would get published.”

“Hhmm, interesting proposal, but then I might need to make it a little more inconspicuous so that I can escape SHIELD’s PR clutches. You know, the Captain, I’d call him… Peter Patriotic.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “Not Roger Stevenson?” he teased.

“Too obvious,” was Darcy’s verdict.

“Whatever you say, future bestselling author. You could also make Peter Patriotic a girl and call her… Lilian Liberty. Lilian Liberty’s extraordinary adventures.”

“Oh, good one!” Darcy nodded appreciatively. “But then I think I might make one of his friends female, you know, the one who’s awesome with science and technology and her name would be Tina… Tina… Tina – I’m trying to come up with a clever wordplay on Stark.”

“Or we could just model her after Dr Foster,” Steve suggested, “and call her Jean Forrester.”

“Jean’s my middle name.”

“Perfect then.”

Darcy stared at him, a blush creeping into her cheeks, and then abruptly looked away and marched into the next aisle. “Anyway,” she continued briskly, “it has to be a girl scientist to show that girls can be awesome at science, too. And obviously Peter has this amazing lady spy friend-”

“Who is way more competent than he is,” Steve threw in.

“Yeah, in certain aspects, but not in all aspects, otherwise you’d involuntarily ask why the story is about the hero and not the heroine.”

“Agreed. But anyway. I’m all for it. If you want to have it illustrated, let me know.”

~*~

Darcy opened the door to her apartment, still in her pyjamas with her toothbrush in her mouth. She looked adorably sleepy and disheveled. Steve had had to cancel their Thursday meeting because he was called away for a mission and was now picking Darcy up at her apartment early Saturday morning to go to the MoMa.

She took the toothbrush out of her mouth. “Sorry,” she accidentally spit out some of her toothpaste. “I overslept. Give me ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” he grinned and then pointed at the tray in his hand. “I brought coffee.”

“You are a prince among men.”

She let Steve into her apartment and marched back into the bathroom. Steve took a cautious look around in her tiny one room apartment. Her bed was still unmade and with a pile of clothes on it that she had probably thrown from her closet onto it. The kitchen looked spotless and Steve’s first guess was that she barely used it until he saw the gigantic jar of what looked like homemade cookies on the counter. The only place to sit on other than the bed was a desk with a chair, that Darcy had managed to cram into one corner. The desk itself was overflowing with paper and the wall next to it was covered in paper as well.

He was about to take a closer look at her paper when Darcy appeared out of her bathroom to gather some clothes.

“What are all these?” Steve asked, gesturing at the paper on the wall.

“Drafts of my story ideas. Developing the plot, some scenes I’ve written,” Darcy explained. “You know, at some point I actually plan to publish a book under my own name.”

“What are you writing?”

“A children’s book.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Please tell me this is not really about Peter Patriotic.”

“No, it’s not, Captain Vanity,” she teased. “It’s about a princess.”

“Do you mind if I take a closer look while you get ready?”

“No, be my guest. You can be my first reviewer.”

Steve didn’t even notice how long it took Darcy to get ready for their outing. At some point he became too engrossed in her story. Her ideas were fantastic and her writing really vivid. It would make a great children’s story.

“You ready to head out?” Darcy had come standing next to him and he looked at her in surprise, a part of her manuscript still in his hands.

“These are amazing,” he said in a voice full of awe. “It’s such a great take on princess stories.”

“Thanks.”

“Princess Butterplum? And her pet dragon? I love it.”

“Thanks again. You can be my number one fan.”

“I mean it,” Steve emphasized.

“I know you do.” Darcy patted his arm and then took the manuscript out of his hand. “But this is still very rough and has a long way to go until publication. So, let’s go. There’s an underground station not far from here.”

“Why do you want to be a writer?” Steve asked while they were waiting for their train to arrive.

“Because there are infinite possibilities in the universe and somehow we humans here on earth ended up in a reality without magic and dragons and boring stuff like taxes and PTA meetings,” Darcy answered without even thinking.

“But now you know Thor and that there maybe are infinite possibilities at your fingertips,” Steve pointed out. “And you know that there’s magic. Loki has it.”

“Yeah, but I still like to make up my own stories.”

“So ghost writing is just to pay the bills?”

“Yeah,” Darcy shrugged, “a girl’s gotta eat.”

“How do you get paid?” Steve wanted to know. “By SHIELD, for my autobiography?”

“By the page.”

“So I better give you some more information about me then.”

~*~

“So you had how many meetings with Ms Lewis?” Nick Fury asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve answered, knowing full well that Fury’s question was entirely rhetorical. As if SHIELD didn’t keep watch of his meetings with his ghost writer.

“Seventeen,” Nick then supplied. “You spent 17 afternoons with her not counting her museum excursions and your classic movie nights at the Angelika. And she has yet to produce something readable. She hasn’t given us a single page and trust me, we’ve tried to get something.”

It took all of Steve’s self control to not let his surprise show. He had told her enough, she could probably fill three entire chapters with all the nonsense he and Bucky had come up with at the orphanage. Why hadn’t she written anything so far? And if she wasn’t getting any money out of this, why would she still spend time with him?

“It’s not her fault,” Steve said to come to her defense. “I just don’t tell her anything that’s worth writing down.”

“So you are still sabotaging your own biography,” Nick stated matter-of-factly.

“We disagreed on this right from the beginning. What made you think I’d actually change my mind?”

“Your charming ghost writer, maybe. She can be very… persuasive if she wants to be.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Well, she hasn’t convinced me of anything.”

“Well, not of the things we wanted,” Fury said mysteriously. “But maybe this has done some good. If this continues to be difficult, I’ll tell SHIELD PR to go with their plan B.”

“Which would be?”

“A Captain America Smithsonian exhibit.”

~*~

“So,” Steve began after he had finally gathered his courage. He fiddled with the sketchbook in his hands nervously, “I hope I’m not too presumptuous, but I kind of couldn’t sleep last night and I kind of drew Princess Butterplum and her dragon for you.”

“What?” Darcy looked up from the cake display, which she had been perusing for the last five minutes because she couldn’t decide which cake to get.

“Get the carrot cake, because I know that’s your favourite and then we can sit down and I can show them to you.”

Darcy did just that and they got a seat in the back of the little bakery Natasha had told Steve about. She looked at him expectantly and Steve opened his sketchbook and slid it in her direction nervously.

Darcy looked down at the page and her eyes widened in shock. She stared at the page for a few seconds and then back at him. “Steve-” she began.

“Wait, before you say anything, there’s more. Just looked at the next page and the one after that.” He had filled a dozen pages already with both rough sketches and full-out drawings based on some of the scenes he had read in Darcy’s manuscript. Darcy turned page after page, her eyes becoming rounder and rounder in surprise.

“I mean, I don’t want to assume anything,” Steve added nervously, “but, you know, aren’t children’s books better with illustrations? I’m totally up to offer my services.”

“Why are you doing this?” Darcy asked quietly.

“Because you haven’t written a word about me,” Steve explained. “I had a meeting with Nick Fury and he told me that you had yet to produce your first page.”

“Oh, yeah, that…”

“Why didn’t you write anything? I basically told you everything about my childhood that one rainy afternoon in your apartment when you made cookies for me. And that discussion we had about the Howling Commandos on our way to the Angelika? That’s worth publishing, right? Why didn’t you give SHIELD what they wanted?”

“Because I don’t want to betray your confidence! It’s… you don’t want this, Steve! And what you told me was so personal and I don’t feel that you… we… SHIELD should publish this if you don’t want this. You are not their mascot. You don’t have to be at their beck and call.”

“But SHIELD will cut the funding and go with plan B, which is the Smithsonian exhibit and then our weekly meetings will be over and there’s no reason for you to see me again. But I like having coffee or cake or whatever with you every Thursday and I figured we could work on this instead.”

Darcy stared at him for a moment. “Steve,” she then said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Thursdays stopped being about the biography a long time ago.”

Steve stared at her, his mouth hanging open, when the meaning finally registered. “Oh.”

“So, you know,” Darcy said casually, “you don’t have to illustrate a children’s book for that. You could just ask me out. I would say yes.”

“You would?”

“Yes.”

Steve grinned at her and didn’t care how much like a lovesick idiot he probably looked right at the moment. “Darcy Jean Lewis, would you like to have dinner with me some time?”

“Yes,” Darcy grinned right back, here eyes sparkling in amusement. “How about tonight?”

“Perfect. And also, you need to have coffee with me every Thursday. Because I really want to write that children’s book with you.”

* * *

 

#### The princess and the hat

_About the authors_

D.J. Lewis is still disappointed that despite all the new discoveries in the last years (and even meeting a real-life God of Thunder herself!) dragons have yet to be proven to exist. Until that happens she has S.G. Rogers draw them for her. He is a retired Army Captain and drawing dragons is his second favourite pastime right after saving the world.


End file.
